Then I called Uncle Joe.
"Madam, oh, Master. I wanted to talk to you." I could hear his, the usual cough.
"Brother told me you had something to tell me. What is it?"
"The defense project is almost complete. It should be finished within four or five days."
Now, that was big news for me.
The idea for this project had come from me. Its purpose was to protect our district from every direction, particularly from District 1. For years, we had been anticipating a war between our districts. Their intentions had never been pure.
And by they, I meant Dale Hawk.
A week later, after Father's death, Dale Hawk, along with his son, came to our district to mourn for Father's death. For me, that was and still is the joke of the century. Have you ever heard the killer himself come to mourn for the victim's death?
Both the father and son came without any security. They wanted us to attack them by seeing them unarmed.
It was indeed quite bold of them to come here like that. If I had been the leader back then, District 1 wouldn't have even found the remains of their leader.
If I ever chose to be ruthless, I'd be ruthless in a way no one had ever been before, nor would ever see again.
No exceptions.
But sadly I wasn't, and this is the reason why they were able to leave our house alive.
Uncle Joe was thoughtful then, so we didn't do anything. When later they left, my uncle told us why we had to behave like that. If we had attacked them, then they'd have a reason to blame us. We would've gotten ourselves into a war, and we certainly didn't have any chance of winning then.
This thought is the reason why I think it was really good that I was not a leader then.
I was in my brother's room when they both arrived. I wasn't allowed to leave the room, but I wanted to see them for myself. So, naturally, I climbed out of the window into the garden and began looking for another window that would give me a clear view of the two of them.
My line of sight shifted, and there he was, Dale's son. He stood outside my greenhouse, looking straight in my direction.
That was how I first met the eldest son of the Hawk family, Logan Hawk. He was twelve then.
I wanted nothing more than to run toward him and dig my nails into his face, but I couldn't move.
His big, black, innocent kind of eyes looked straight at me as if he could see inside of me.
And I did!
I just simply ran back from the way I came from.
Uncle Joe told me that I should stay hidden from everyone just like Father, but that boy saw me. All I could pray then was, "Please, God, remove his memories."
'Me meeting him'—that memory is quite hazy, so I don't remember the details about that day.
When both the father and son pair left, two days later we completely isolated ourselves.
"Rose, are you there, Master?"
"Yes, I'm here. Anything else?"
"Rose, are you there, Master?"
"Yes, I'm here. Anything else?"
Now he's quiet. He probably must be thinking about something that maybe I have yet to learn about.
about.
"Uncle, what are you thinking?"
Uncle: "I think we should let the construction that's being done near the borders be done by keeping a low profile."
"Good thinking."
Indeed good thinking. If we did it openly, then every district's eyes would be on us. We can't share this piece of knowledge yet.
Our district depends heavily on machines and technology because of our smaller population. In this regard, my district is number one, a fact that, of course, not a single other district is aware of.
And if anyone ever discovered the truth, District 10 would probably earn another name:
"The Place of Talents."
"Uncle, do what you think is right. I'm okay with it." I'd always leave it to him.
"Okay."
"Handle everything yourself then." I had my assumptions that he would be giving tough times to the workers.
"Bye and take care."
"You too."
I hung up not because I didn't want to talk, but because I heard someone come in. The only person whom I don't want to get close to. General.